Torment
by Cyzara Nymphis
Summary: Edward Nygma tries so hard to annoy Jonathan Crane, But Jonathan has his own set of tricks. One shot CraneNygma


_I don't own batman or related characters._

_I can't take it anymore. Working on With Rhyme and Reason, I'm trying so hard to keep the slash level low. So I wrote this one shot to help sate my inner fangirl. CraneNygma. Silly, fluffy, ends in disaster for Edward lol. Stupid fangirl-ness...You were warned! I hate myself..._

I knew I shouldn't bother him. He wouldn't want me to either. But I can't help myself. I mean, he'll get over it. It is _me _we're talking about here. Even he couldn't resist my charms. Other wise I'd be dead.

Jonathan Crane, who sometimes calls himself Scarecrow, sat on the couch in my safe house outside of Gotham. A nice place, not to large, just one bedroom... but I'm getting off the subject. Jon was enjoying one of the many detective novels I have lying around the old place, lounging back. He looked so content. And bored. I couldn't let my good friend sit there and be bored. I sat on the couch next to him. I just looked, waiting for him to speak first. Of course, Jonathan would have none of than, so he just ignored me. The corner of his mouth twitched, but he did not say anything.

_Now comes the fun_, I thought as took hold of the book he was reading. I didn't take it from him, just grabbed it.

"Edward, let go of my book." He said coldly, face still twitching.

I grinned, unable to help it, "Technically, it's _my _book."

"Let go of _the_ book." He jerked it away and continued to read.

I wasn't done yet. Jon had either been down in his lab he set up in my basement or on the couch reading. He hadn't spent any time with me. It was about time he paid some attention to me. I mean, what could be more important or more interesting?

I poked at the book, "Have you read this one before?"

"No."

"Do you know who did it yet?"

"No."

"It was the boy's mother."

Jonathan dropped the book into his lap. That little twitch was now a full-on tick. "Thank you, Edward." He sat the book on the small table next to the couch and got up. I followed. He started down the stairs to the basement. I stood and the top, leaning against the wall, waiting for the next round. The basement door had a key pad lock. A lock that have very recently been changed. Jonathan punched in the old code, but the lock only beeped in defiance. He grumbled, then tried again. Nothing, just the single beep. He took a deep breath and turned his head slowly towards me.

"Edward?"

"Yes?"

He was so pissed; Had Jonathan been a normal person, he'd be screaming and throwing things by now. But this was my Jonathan, not just some average person. He took another deep breath.

"What is the code for the basement?" Jon crossed his arms over his chest. His blue eyes burned; Oh my god, was he pissed. I was loving it.

I could hardly hold back the laughter, "Well, Riddle me this: Candles, Micheal Jordan, and Patrick's name. You tell me Jon." There was no way he was getting this. That last part would have him so stumped, he'll be begging me for that pass code.

"Sixteen, twenty-three, twenty-four." He said as he punched the code in. It was accepted and he went into the basement.

I literally thought my jaw had hit the floor. How the hell did he figure that out! And so fast! He must have already knew it and was just messing with me. Round two goes to Crane...

I followed him down stairs. I never felt very comfortable with him in there, but it was my turn for some attention. He works with those stupid chemicals, chemicals I pay for and in my basement, and never so much as comes up to say hi. I opened the door and went into his lab.

"Jon-a-than!" I said in a sing-songy voice.

Standing at one of the tables, Jon was measuring out some chemicals, "What is it now? Can't you see I'm trying to work?"

"Work, work, work!" I sighed, throwing my hands up. "Don't you like anything besides fear?"

"Bourbon."

That was an excellent answer. I laughed, "What? Really?"

"Yes."

I started to devise a plan. Oh, this would get Jonathan good. "Would you like me to get you some?"

"If that means you'll leave me alone for a while, then yes."

I turned on my heels and headed upstairs and outside.

X-X

Finally, Edward was gone. I had not been paying attention to him today, so he was going stir-crazy. I really wasn't much of a drinker, but I knew that would get him out of my hair. When he got back, I would give him attention, but he would not like it. I had reworked my fear toxin again, giving it a longer effect and, hopefully, a stronger reaction. I just needed to put a few finishing touches on it. Then I would need a test subject. And that is where Edward would come in.

But then I thought. Yes, that would fix the problem today, but he would get over it. Then he would go back to tormenting me. No, that would not do. I would have to beat him at his own game. I grabbed a large container of fear toxin and another of the powder form of the chemical. I then headed upstairs. I had a lot to do.

?-?

I came in the door, about two hours after I left. I had never giving much thought to the particular type of alcohol Jonathan liked, so I asked around. I had to, of course, double check my sources, I mean, just to be sure. I didn't really need a second opinion, but I wanted to make sure I got something Jon would like. Not that I would fail at that; who would know Jonathan better than me?

Said evil scientist was upstairs when I came in. He was on the couch reading another book. An adventure novel, one I had not read. Clever Jon. I set the bottle of bourbon on the table. I sighed at the state of said table; I had not cleaned it up on a while, puzzles, newspapers and books. And so much dust.

"Hey, I got it!" I smiled charmingly at my scary friend. "And you'll notice, I had the tastes to get the best, of course."

Jonathan got up and walked over to the kitchen table. He picked up the bottle and studied it in his usual analytical manner, "Well, you at least manage to get the most _expensive_ that you could find. I suppose it will do."

Getting into the cabinets and grabbing a glass, he looked rather content despite his act of being displeased. I smiled; That's right, not even Jonathan Crane could resist _me_!

"So, you like it then?" I asked, but I already knew the answer.

"It will do." He poured himself a glass without even looking at me. No 'thank you' or even acknowledgment. Jonathan was always so ungrateful. He sat back down on the couch, sipping his bourbon. He looked so content. Okay, I guess I could forgive him for not being grateful. I mean, I knew he appreciated it, so why did it matter if he said anything, right?

Feeling rather proud of myself, I got into the frig. There was some left over pizza, a few things of Korean take-out(Jonathan's, I hate that stuff.), a two liter soda, and a half-gallon milk. It was getting a little bare. I sighed, loosing my appetite. I just got out the milk and poured me a glass. I took a drink. It tasted...odd. I looked at the expiration date. It was still good for two week. I smelled my glass, it had a metallic smell to it.

"Hey, Jonathan," I swirled the milk and smelled it again. "The milk's gone bad. It tastes weird."

"Did you check the expiration date, Edward?" My lanky friend got up from the couch and came to the table. He poured himself another glass of bourbon and took the bottle back to the couch with him. I just checked the date, but I had to be sure. No, I had seen it right. Of course I was right the first time, but I mean, it didn't hurt to check.

"Yeah, it's fine! I bought it yesterday!" I poured out my glass and put the milk back. Jon looked so pleased. I couldn't stay upset about the milk. It was nice to see he enjoyed something besides scaring the hell out of people. My appetite came back; I knew there was some chips in the cabinet, and that sounded good right about now. I took out the half-full bag and reached in. They were spicy ranch, but they tasted a little off. Not stale, a kind metallic taste...

"Hey, Jon," I said, wiping the excessive amount of flavoring onto a near-by dish towel. "I think the chips are bad too."

He smirked, and sipped his drink, "Then don't eat them." I held in a laugh. I could tell he was a little buzzed. Or maybe a lot. With Jon, I knew it would be hard to tell. I shrugged it off and tossed the chips into the trash. I got back into the refrigerator and pulled out the pizza. I didn't even bother warming it up. I just took a bite.

"Eh!" I gagged on the pizza. It tasted bad too. Metallic. Maybe it wasn't the food. I spit the pizza out into the trash and tossed the rest in too. What was going on? What if I was sick, and what if it was serious? I could feel a slight panic grip me. I took a deep breath; No need to panic, no. I got a glass of water and rinsed my mouth. That pizza left a gritty feeling in my mouth, like dust. _Dust!_

"Jon-a-than!"

"Yes?" That skinny bastard acted like he had no idea what I was upset about. He had tried to _poison_ me! After all I have done for him! He started to look impatient. "What is it, Edward?"

"What is it? You poisoning all the food!"

Jonathan looked a little like he was dizzy, "_Technically_, it's only contaminated, not poisoned. A poison would be lethal."

"Well, whatever! I just _ate_ that stuff!" I shouted at him. He only raised an eyebrow and took another drink. I could feel myself starting to panic, "What if it kills me?"

"Oh, will you be quiet?" Jonathan waved a hand at me. "You'll be fine. Why don't you got lay down?"

I didn't argue with him. I just shook my head. Asshole had just _contaminated_ all the food and was just business as usual. He had to be up to something. Maybe he was waiting until I went to sleep. Maybe...

I took a deep breath. It was the fear toxin making me think this way. I just needed to lay down, get some sleep. I went to the bedroom and flopped face down on the bed. I curled in the blankets and took another deep breath. The blankets on the bed smelled...metallic.

X-X

"JONATHAN!"

I laughed out loud. I wondered how long he could stay coherent with all the fear toxin I had spread over the house. This was turning out to be a most amusing experiment. I took another drink; Maybe I should stop. No, I was fine. I could still concentrate. I could hear Edward swearing and throwing a fit in the bedroom. A door slammed, then I could hear the shower coming on. I wonder how long it will take him to figure out I contaminated the water heater. His screaming and swearing showed me it was not too long. I laughed again. My head was starting to spin. I laid down on the couch, smiling to myself.

"Diddle, diddle, dumpling, my son John,

Went to bed with his trousers on;

One shoe off, and one shoe on,

Diddle, diddle, dumpling, my son John!"

I found myself laughing uncontrollably. Edward was throwing a fit, screaming, swearing, and making threats on my life. I could not help but wonder why it was I did not do this more often. I picked up the bottle of bourbon and took a long drink. Most interesting...

?-?

After a cold shower, I sat out on the porch, eating a pizza I just had delivered. I told the curious delivery girl that my house was getting fumigated, and that I was sitting outside in my pajamas in mid-January because I used to live in Alaska so cold didn't bother me. Not that a nut-job mad scientist poisoned every inch of the house and I was afraid to go inside. I sighed. I couldn't sit out here and freeze to death. I'll just get the vacuum cleaner out, wash some stuff, throw out all the food... kill Jonathan.

I mustered up the courage and went in the front door. It was quite. Jonathan had been laughing and spouting off nursery rhymes when I went outside. He could be so creepy sometimes. I walked in, expecting him to jump out in his Scarecrow costume at any second. However, Jon was asleep on the couch. But not his usual, stiff dead-looking sleep. He was sprawled haphazardly across the couch, like a rag-doll. His head turned so what little cheek he actually had was squished and was drooling and snoring. He held the bottle of bourbon, half-full, like it was a teddy bear. It was cute; How could I stay mad at him?

I took off his glasses and set them on the table next to the couch. I took the bottle of booze and covered him up with a throw that was on the back of the couch. I turned and went downstairs. I need to get a gas mask and gloves. I still had that bastard's mess to clean up.

X-X

I rubbed my temples. I had such a hangover. That of course was Edward's fault. I had wasted so much valuable time yesterday, playing around with him. I was down in my lab, trying to make up for lost time. Edward came busting in, obnoxiously cheerful as usual. He leaned on the table I was working at, smiling stupidly at me.

"You know something, Spooky?" He smirked. I hated it when he called me that. I glared at him, but it did not damper his spirits, "You try to pull all that bullshit about not having a sense of humor. After that massive practical joke you pulled on me"

"I never said I did not have a sense of humor." I focused on my work and ignored him. "Most people just think it's rather sick."

He smiled a smile that would have put the Joker to shame. I wanted to smack it off his face. I did not react.

"Of course it is!" He leaned up close to me, "I love that about you." He kissed me on the cheek.

I jammed a syringe full of fear toxin into his jugular. He looked at me with disbelief. "God damn it, Jon. I hate you."

"I know."


End file.
